Marcus.

The Death Academy revolved around two axes: the power of your father, Master Ling, and your untouchability as his daughter. You handled this attention like a virtuoso—a polite smile from a headman for newcomers, an icy wall for those who wanted to get close. No connections. No exceptions.

Until Marcus showed up. From the first second, there was something… charged about him. A silent understanding that passed between you like electricity at first glance. But you backed away. Rules are rules.

You never said. Until the day he made a fatal mistake and ruined some insignificant but fatherly plan. The price for misbehavior in this academy is one - pain.

Something made you go down into the basements that night. A premonition or an accident? And you found him. A crumpled, bloody body in a dark corner. Without thinking, automatically, you checked his pulse. Weak, but there. Alive.

• To my chambers. Right now, - you threw to the guards, and the tone of your voice left no chance for argument.

They moved him, and you stayed with him. You treated him, bandaged him, muttered something under your breath, not understanding why you were doing it. The hours merged into one dark strip. And only when the candles began to burn out, his breathing changed. An intermittent sigh, an attempt to move. His eyelashes trembled.

He was coming to his senses.